The Hot Air Balloon Incident
by The Lionhearted Phoenix
Summary: Ginny visits Harry in the hospital after he pulls an incredibly idiotic move in order to ask her a very important question.


**A/N: Written for the Ultimate Battle Competition. Prompt: (condition) present tense.**

I pace back and forth, not even bothering to keep myself from biting my nails, a bad habit I thought I'd broken long ago. The waiting room of St Mungo's is quiet, save my muttering to myself –

"What was he _thinking_? Honestly, the man's got less sense than a flobberworm if he thought he wouldn't –"

The door opens and I am immediately in front of the Healer, who looks rather worn out. "Is he awake?" I demand. "Let me in!"

The Healer sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. "Yes, he's awake," she says tiredly. "He's been through a great ordeal, so perhaps it would be best if you –"

I am not listening; I have already pushed open the door. I stand for a moment, blocking the doorway as I gape openly at the sight before me.

"Hi," says Harry meekly.

I stare. He appears to be in a full-body cast, his arms and legs stretched out at bizarre angles to accommodate the space required to keep each of them in traction. His face is covered in purple bruises, some turning yellow as the healing potion begins its work.

"Er…Ginny?" says Harry, but before he can say more than that I regain control of my senses, close my gaping mouth, and slam the door behind me.

"You complete _prat_ , Harry Potter!" I shout, and he flinches. I march up to him and whap him upside the head, taking care to avoid his various limbs and bruises.

"Ouch!" says Harry, more annoyed than pained, I think. "What was that for?"

"You could have gotten yourself killed, you idiot!" I say, and am about to smack him again when he grins up at me.

"I don't suppose I could get a kiss for all my trouble?" He bats his eyelashes at me, and I consider withholding the gift of my lovely lips as punishment for his idiocy, but decide that I can come up with better ways to penalize the imbecile when I am thinking clearly.

"Fine," I say with as much contempt as I can muster. I lean over and press my lips to his, out of sympathy at first, but then I lose myself in his lips and all I am thinking is _more, more, more –_

"Enough," I say, pulling away with a huge effort of will. "You won't get me to forgive you just by kissing me."

"Oh, come on, Ginny," Harry whines, and I have to restrain myself from laughing. "Isn't it enough that I fell twenty feet from a hot-air balloon and then got stampeded by a herd of antelope?"

"You," I tell him, pointing a shaking finger at him, "are the dumbest man I have ever had the misfortune of meeting!"

"I can't be worse than Lockhart," Harry points out.

I consider this for a moment before nodding. "The _second_ dumbest man, then."

"I always come in second," Harry mock-grumbles, and I try not to laugh.

"What on Merlin's green earth could have possibly possessed you for you to attempt such an idiotic thing?" I ask him, folding my arms across my chest.

"I, er, just thought I'd try it?" says Harry weakly, and my eyes narrow.

"Since you have done such a stupid thing," I decree, "I demand recompense for the years I spent believing you were intelligent."

"Fair enough," says Harry lightly. "Look in my jacket pocket – the left one – I just hope it didn't get crushed…"

I go over to the stack of torn-up clothes on his nightstand and sort through them until I find his jacket, which is miraculously unharmed, aside from a few scuffs here and there. I check the left pocket and find a small red box, trimmed in gold.

"Open it," Harry advises me, and I obediently flick the box open –

And gasp. Because sitting inside, on a small velvet cushion, is a gorgeous diamond ring, the stone as big as the nail on my pinky finger, and it is absolutely stunning. I am speechless for a moment.

"I was going to propose today," said Harry sheepishly. "I meant to surprise you and take you up in the balloon, but I thought I'd test it first and see if it was really good enough for you – because you deserve the best, Ginny, you really do. Except, er, then everything went to hell in a handbasket, or a balloon basket if you're so inclined, and the damn thing stopped working and then it fell and then I got tangled in the effing parachute thing and then I got trampled, and, well –"

I cut him off with a kiss, and he responds with an eloquent "Mmph!"

"Yes," I say, rather breathlessly, when we finally break apart.

"Y-yes?" says Harry rather dumbly.

I grin at him. "Yes. I'll marry you."

Relief floods his face. "You will?"

"Of course I will," I say, running my shaking fingers through his hair as I sit on the edge of his bed to conceal my trembling knees. "There's never been anyone else for me but you, you know that. And I'm so sorry I've been so rude to you, it's just that I was so worried and then I saw you and it hit me that I could have lost you and I was so _angry,_ because everything we've worked towards would have all been for nothing…"

I trail off, staring at the ring, and he glances at it, too. "I'd put it on for you, but, well –" He wiggles the fingers protruding from his casts. "I can't exactly move my arm."

We both chuckle. "Here," I say, lifting the ring out of the box and placing it between his first and second fingers. Then I move my left hand up so the ring slides onto my third finger.

"There we are," I say, settling back on the edge of his bed. I stare at the ring again, watching the diamond catch and reflect the dull hospital light. The stone's beauty makes the light seem less dull, somehow. "It's really lovely, Harry," I breathe.

He smiles at me. "I'm glad you like it." There is a moment of silence as we both admire my finger, and then he says, "So…does this mean I'm forgiven?"

I roll my eyes and plant a kiss on his cheek. "I suppose so." Then I lean in and whisper into his ear, "but you're still a total idiot."

He laughs and cranes his neck up to kiss me again. "I know," he says, grinning. "But you wouldn't have me any other way."


End file.
